


Late Night Lessons

by fandomfluffandfuck



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: (there's talk of seb's past sexual experiences too btw), Accidental Confessions of Kinks, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass Play, Awkward Conversations, Begging, Bisexuality, Blushing, Bottom Sebastian Stan, Choking, Chris is pretty vanilla here (I don't know if that's actually true or not so don't sue me), Coming Untouched, Daddy Chris, Daddy Kink, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Dom Chris, Dom/sub Undertones, Dominance, Dry Humping, Embarrassment, Frottage, Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, Handcuffs, Kink Discovery, Kink Negotiation, Light BDSM, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Making Out, Mommy Kink, Orgasm Control, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Relationship(s), Power Play, Praise Kink, Realization, Relationship Discussions, Rimming, Seb's a mess in this lmao, Sebastian is kinky here (I also don't know if that's true or not so... yeah), Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Size Difference, Size Kink, Spanking, Sub Sebastian, Subspace, Threesome - mentioned, Top Chris Evans, Under-negotiated Kink, Vaginal Sex - meantioned, Voice Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27807082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandomfluffandfuck/pseuds/fandomfluffandfuck
Summary: Sebastian accidentally reveals one of his most potent kinks to Chris while they speak about their different sexual histories and Chris has questions about it. Sebastian isn't sure if he's going to live to be able to answer those additional questions.Alternatively: the origins of Sebastian and Chris' daddy kink. Literally just kink.
Relationships: Chris Evans/Sebastian Stan
Comments: 12
Kudos: 109





	Late Night Lessons

Chris and himself are trying to have a goddamn  **adult conversation** when _ it  _ happens, because, of course, he cannot talk through something serious without ruining it a little or embarrassing himself  _ a lot  _ by fault of his own loose lips _. _ He wants to crawl under the sheets of Chris’ bed and hide himself from him and the rest of the world until they’ve both grown old enough to not recall what just came out of his mouth. Maybe overheating from being fully clothed under his comforter would give him some peace of mind and a proper excuse for why his cheeks are  _ flaming.  _ His palms are also now sweating which is not a good thing because Chris is reaching for them, his tactile nature demanding that he make sure he’s physically okay on a subconscious level, trying to lace their fingers. And it would help in any other situation- it would. It’s just… 

They  _ were _ trying to have an honest and open - laying it all out on the line - conversation about sexual history and experiences  _ before _ they do anything and. Well. He just. He- 

Sebastian just let it slip that he had a girlfriend (and not a recent one either… it’s been something that he’s known about himself for a  _ long  _ time) that convinced him to call her “mommy” in bed. And he’d  _ liked it. _ Badly liked it. Like, liked it enough to warrant himself literally getting on his knees, pressing his face against her and begging her to let him say it on more than one occasion. 

Not- not that it’s something to be ashamed about because he knows better than that, everyone’s got things they like, but… it’s obvious from what Chris has been telling him that he’s unfortunately not got a lot of experience with things that aren’t still vanilla in the kink community but a  _ little _ wild for people who only know vanilla. Like having sex after wining and dining someone, bringing them to his room via a literal path of rose petals. Like fucking a girl in the ass once- that’s out there compared to missionary in the middle of the bed every time you want to get off but if Sebastian compares it to his own experiences, well, then he’s barely even in the kiddie pool really. He nearly physically shivers at the difference between them- it shouldn’t be something that has his breaths becoming shorter considering how he generally prefers all of his partners to be in control of him in the bedroom (or wherever else they happen to be), but. There’s something there. Not with knowing more than Chris exactly, more with knowing that he’s never had the chance to do any of this before. 

Besides. He’s got no real reason even to be embarrassed in front of someone who - in the nicest way possible - is relatively clueless about this. He doesn’t even like the “weird” type of mommy kink. It’s not like the type of mommy kink he has participated in, or is into, was the full blown Mommy Dom and Little Boy play with age regression and accessories or anything. It was never as extreme as that even, ironically- now that he’s thinking about it, it was definitely the most vanilla version of a mommy kink out there. He has always just used it as some simple power play in the way that people tend to think of Daddy kinks now when it comes up. It was just something to add on top of everything else they were playing with. Just a title that made them both a little crazy when he sobbed it out as his face was buried in her breasts as she rode him, her lithe hands creeping tighter around his throat, telling him to remind her why he should get to cum after edging him for well over an hour. Just something that he could whimper when she fingered and tongued him open, holding onto the sheets so tight his fingers ached (if he wasn’t tied up) because she’d always been fantastic at teasing and knowing when something felt really good for him- a dire combination when in such, uhh,  _ situations _ . Just something for him to say besides her name when she asked him who he belonged to. Just something that made his face go up in flames when for his birthday she bought him some cheap cuffs that had “mommy’s toy” written on them in sparkly pink lettering that were kind of a joke but… also not really because they’d used them twice before they broke anyway and the whole time when they first used them she made him say it over and over and over. Letting him tug on them all he wanted when she stopped fucking him to make him gasp the words out, smugly reminding him that he was just making it harder on himself or that he was giving himself even more marks- whispering about how surely he didn’t  _ want anyone else to know what he was getting up to when no one else was watching, right? Because that would be awfully slutty and attention-seeking of him. _

Sebastian barely restrains from actually jumping when he’s forced back into the current reality he’s  suffering in. Chris is back to making one of the various curious noises he’s been making all night then, coming out of the deathly silence and shock shrouding the room with a polite, warm noise. 

Sebastian knows what that noise means… Chris is going to ask him to explain himself, which, up until this very second Sebastian was enjoying how easily Chris was taking to clearly being the less-experienced partner with how many times he would just tilt his head to the side, that gorgeous little dip between his eyebrows appearing on account of his confusion. Nonverbally conveying what he was feeling while being nice enough to not interrupt him, waiting until he was fully done explaining before running for the hills. But, now, at this moment, he’s not enjoying it. Not that much anyway. _Shouldn’t a mommy kink be obvious?_ He winces to himself, awaiting Chris’ words as he keeps on staring down at the bed, he’s not expecting him to just straight up say _ew_ or anything… he’s more expecting a quiet, polite rejection. Taking in a deep breath like his last therapist told him to do actually _all_ of the time, convinced that a good lungful of air could clear any situation. It helps- just a little bit though. He’s less dizzy now. More in his own body and more aware of how his own body is betraying him.

“I mean… I know how that sounds, err, maybe even what it is… in theory,” Chris drags out his words, confusion dripping from them like he’s hoping Sebastian will know where he’s going and cut in to save him from saying it out loud, “but, uhh, is it like a daddy kink? I just wanna be sure I know.” Sebastian can hear him reaching up to scratch the back of his neck. He wants to squirm too but he keeps on staring down at their legs. They’re both sitting crisscross on his bed, facing each other. Shifting his weight and curling his fingers into his palms, Sebastian feels the heat in his cheeks and neck coming right back to inferno that it was before he spaced out. He knows he’s going to lay himself flat for Chris to examine right now, he can feel it; he can feel the way he’s already starting to unfold for him. But that doesn’t do anything to his rising embarrassment  or arousal.  It doesn’t take much for him to bend to his will, hardly anything really, Chris could breath on him and he would fall back like a figurine that’s been knocked over by a careless child. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, wanting to shrug but being unable to get his body to move in such a way. 

“‘S alright,” Chris shrugs, catching up to his embarrassment, there’s a smile audible in his voice, brightening the atmosphere almost literally, “it’s not like I don’t know about daddy kinks, they’re like, uhh, one of the most common ones, right?” The hand intertwined with his squeezes, Sebastian finds himself squeezing back in affirmation. And he’s looking up, not thinking about it as he does. He nods and clears his throat, just to be sure that Chris gets his agreement. 

“Yeah. I mean…” he cringes internally at his own awkwardness, looking into Chris’ intrigued but cool gaze, allowing for it to wash over him and hopefully rub off on him some. Of the two of them he may be considered kinky but he’s  _ not _ smooth; he’s experienced, yes, however usually he’s not the one doing the picking up. Any partner that seems to be attracted to him is always dominant and therefore they become the aggressor, not that Sebastian minds this, it’s just unfamiliar. “There’s different kinds, actually,  _ levels, _ I guess. But, yeah, there’s different levels of both of them,” he can’t bring himself to say “mommy” or “daddy” in front of Chris at the moment  he’s already hard and he doesn’t wanna make it worse for himself  and the aforementioned man smirks faintly like he knows. He probably actually does know. He hasn’t looked at himself to check how bad the tent he’s currently pitching is. “I haven’t done the more serious stuff with either of them-” 

One of Chris’ gorgeous eyebrows shoot up, surprise and amusement mingling in his eyes- becoming one bright and playful emotion. A curious noise that’s more growl than purr rumbling up his throat. Spelling out subconscious danger for Sebastian’s further venturing. 

_ Ah, shit, not again, _ Sebastian thinks. A pang of accident fueled heat flashing through him like a bolt of lightning. Wanting both to reclaim his metaphorical place with his head in the sand and wanting to spread himself wide and  _ melt  _ for whatever fucking noise that was that just came out of Chris. 

Sebastian makes himself keep rambling to avoid thinking about the twitching of his dick and the rampant curling of his fingers in on his sweaty palms, “I just did the power play part of it, if that makes sense? Just the title part of it. No real age play or heavy stuff. Just...” He trails off, sounding timid to his own ears.

“Domination?” Chris tries to finish for him. He’s so earnest with the fill-in-the-blank that he looks like a very, very attractive puppy, boyish and handsome. 

He hums and before he can stop himself he’s swaying a little towards the other man, moving like the word  _ domination  _ in of itself has a rope that’s reeling him in. Instinctively being drawn to what his brain is just apparently now realized is the object of his affections that is also a very promising potential dominant. Chris’ hand that isn’t curled together with one of his own comes up to cup the side of his neck, just under the hinge of his jaw. Sebastian stops breathing. His throat dries as his lips stay parted, looking into Chris’ eyes that certainly appear to be darker than they were seconds ago. Chris leans forward then, smiling in a way that’s charming and sweet and undeniably sexy for some fucking unfair reason. Their lips meet and Chris commences in kissing the hell out of him. 

They’ve kissed a lot before. They have. They’ve also done  _ other  _ things- the line is with fucking though, so far. Chris has dragged him on top of him when on the couch and pulled an earth shattering orgasm out of him through those huge palms and his trim hips, encouraging him to grind down onto him with pats on the ass that lie closer to slaps then they should’ve. He had revealed another thing about himself to Chris with that. Chris has gotten his hand into his pants as well, being just as unfairly good at stroking him off in the confines of his jeans as he was with groping him and forcing his dick down onto his body, drawing orgasms out of him like nobody’s business. Sebastian has gotten on his knees for Chris twice by now, but he's also gotten to stroke him off and watch him as an entire picture as he came. So, yes, they haven’t been completely abstaining from everything beyond kissing but just… fucking is different to kissing and exchanging hand-jobs. 

There’s an edge to this kiss. An edge to the way Chris licks over his bottom lip right as he begins pulling away instead of continuing to obliterate him so easily. His lips are soft and full and the second they’re gone Sebastian’s chasing him, leaning in and trying to get him to kiss him again. Chasing the feeling. Wanting to keep being kept under his spell. 

Chris shakes his head almost imperceptibly, lowering his voice to a rough whisper, “keep talking.” 

Sebastian knows an order when he hears one- even if it’s an order that has a silent  _ if you want to  _ look tacked onto the end of it.  _ Chris is new at this, remember,  _ Sebastian scolds himself as he thinks about how good that would’ve sounded if he wasn’t hesitant. If he knew how hard Sebastian can take it and how hard he would be able to throw him around- to  _ order  _ him around. His chest tightens at the same time that his breathing becomes heavier, affected by his voice regardless, racing and swallowing. Arousal carves itself into him, making a home out of his melting body. He could get drunk off of that voice. He could- he could get on his knees just for that voice, just to hear more of that voice. His fingers shake impulsively, he wants  _ more…  _ he doesn’t want to keep talking. He wants-

Chris’ fingers drum dangerously over his cheek, silently commanding him to keep going and reminding him, gentlemanly, that it’s his turn to talk. Guiding him back down. 

_ Domination,  _ Sebastian thinks- his thoughts already going in a million directions as Chris’ voice echoes in his head. Feeling like physical fingers dragging down his spine, petting him and sending chills throughout his body,  _ awakening him. _ “I- I mean in the most basic sense, yeah, domination…” he licks his lips like he’ll be able to taste Chris again, nearly whimpering when he can’t, his lips still buzz tenderly anyway, “it’s just domination and power. The other person,” he teeth tear into his bottom lip now, the sting clearing the haze away from his mind for a moment or two. Long enough to hear and process Chris’ causal drawl of  _ the daddy or mommy, yeah?  _ like it’s  _ nothing _ . Like it doesn’t already fucking know that! Like him saying  _ those things _ so easily in his deep, rumbly, yummy register isn’t sending shivers and heat all throughout his body, gathering in his stomach and wreaking havoc on his nervous system! “Y-yeah,” Chris smirks again and there isn’t a  _ single way _ that he  _ doesn’t _ know what he’s doing here. Sebastian doesn’t have it in himself to be angry, all of that energy is being used to keep him hard and pulsing, “the title is just a verbalization of their power and control over, uhh, over- over me. Dominant versus submissive, y’know?” 

The other man hums, rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand. His voice returning almost all of the way to normal as if he’s really, truly, curious now and not actively trying to rile him up, “is there a difference between them?” 

Sebastian flicks his eyes from their hands to the larger man’s eyes, stuttering and trying to decode his answer from those sea-blue eyes, “how… how, wh-what do you mean?” He stutters, keeping his gaze locked with Chris’ the whole time. 

He wants to curl in on himself to mold his body to actually being as small as he suddenly feels, watching Chris scoot closer to him, his body feeling like an enclosing wall, “is there a difference between them? As in, you said you have a mommy kink,” Sebastian’s thighs draw together tightly as he shifts, needing to close his legs against the words coming off of his lips, sounding extra dirty and dark, Chris’ eyes sweep down to watch the movement. He doesn’t do anything about it, for a moment Sebastian doesn’t think he’ll even speak, “and you alluded to having experimented with a daddy kink, so,” his tongue comes to sweep over his lower lip. Everything in Sebastian is screaming for him to lean forward and catch his tongue with his mouth. Maybe with his teeth. His mouth is watering, he wants to taste so bad-  _ he _ wants to be tasted so bad, “you have both? Is there a difference between what gets you with a mommy kink versus a daddy kink. Aren’t they just the same then… but with people of different genders?” 

Sebastian is going to die. 

He’s going to have an aneurysm because Chris fucking Evans won’t stop staring him down and asking, purring really, if he has a daddy kink. If his mommy kink is the same as his daddy kink. His dick twitches just from recalling the way his mouth formed those words. Daddy kink. Mommy kink. Jesus Christ- he  _ wants.  _ He wants to call Chris daddy for the rest of his fucking life and he wants to have his daddy make the call for someone he can bring home so he can  _ see  _ and  _ experience  _ the different between the two. He wants to be good for him. He does. He wants all of everything so bad that he aches for it- in more than one way. 

_ Is there a difference,  _ Sebastian thinks? Stewing in the questions, internalizing them for a moment, trying to process with Chris staring at him like  _ that.  _

“Uhh…” Sebastian shuts his mouth with an audible click, feeling a bit dumb that he’s never thought about this before tonight. “I, I don’t think so, right?” He looks up to Chris and realizes what he’s doing, bending to his presence again, seeing the way Chris’ eyes crinkle with amusement. Jesus. He’s already looking to him for his direction… and he hasn’t done  _ anything  _ yet. By an actual hair of a string he reals in the whimper that wants to pour out of him, swallowing it down into the depths of his body where it instead can tangle into more desire as he tries to find some more words, “I, I haven’t thought about it like that before.” Quickly his fingers shoot up to card through the hair at the side of his head, avoiding looking at Chris because he knows his cheeks are like fucking scarlet currently, “I don’t think so… if there is I don’t think it matters anyway.” He breathes in. Out. “I have both, don't I? Why should it matter?” 

Chris shrugs, “I don’t know. I just wanted to see what your answer was gonna be.” 

The answer from the other man bewitches him and suddenly he can’t stop talking, before he was struggling to speak and now a dam has been opened inside of him, or, cracked perhaps, “I mean if you compare, uh,  _ these _ dominant titles to like ‘sir’ or ‘mistress’ then I guess there is a difference because those make up for a more serious air of play. They’re not as nurturing and caring.” He feels himself rambling. He can’t stop it. “I mean that sounds still, uhh, still good I guess? To me. But… but.” Chris touches the side of his face, one corner of his lip curled lazily up, “There’s no difference to me with these I suppose, now that I’m thinking about it. Unless-” his nose wrinkles on it’s own accord, “you think about anatomy, but, even then, toys don’t really make that an issue. It’s the same power dynamic but the only thing that changes is the perso-”

“Sebastian,” Chris hushes him, pushing his own fingers through his hair while his gut tightens and his eyes snap to his. Sebastian swallows. Chris seems shocked that whatever spell he just put on him with his voice worked, shutting his mouth and leaning back a little with the force of his surprise. 

“Huh,” Chris remarks as he recovers, a tiny twitch of his lips becoming the center of Sebastian’s world as it appears and fades away. “You are obedient…” he adds, so softly that Sebastian isn’t even sure if he’s heard it or if his mind has made it up as a cruel trick. He falls more into his haze with it either way. His tongue darts out to wet his own lips in reaction, needing to do something or fall victim to the thoughts in his head, circling the drain and taking him down with them. Into the dark, primal desires curling in his gut. The warmth of Chris’ palm moves from the side of his head to the nape of his neck, scratching at the short hairs there while forms his hand around his body, careful and calming, “is that something you’d want with me?” 

The gears stop turning in his head. 

_ No shit. _

His own lungs pause mid-expansion as his body freezes despite the heat attacking him, melting him, rushing to his cheeks yet again. Raising his blood pressure and demanding his heart to kick into high gear. He wants that.  _ Yes _ . He wants that  _ more than anything. _ Sebastian’s mouth falls open, he intends to speak, he doesn’t expect to  _ whine. _ But he does. He whines at him as his mind whispers filth to him. Asking him about how good it would feel to have Chris on top of him, _ inside of him, _ holding him close but mostly holding him  _ down. _ His brain forces Sebastian to picture all of it in vivid, vulgar detail- how deep Chris’ voice would get when he finally slides into him, how much he would swear and praise him as he did, his heavy chest pushing him down into the bed as his groans paint over his skin, marking him with the sounds of his pleasure as his as he collars his neck single-handedly. His hands are big enough. They could probably wrap almost all the way around his throat if he felt so inclined, keeping Sebastian at his mercy, only allowing him to breathe when he permits it, when he decides he needs it. Making every decision for him. Ensuring that he’s the one in control of everything and anything. 

“Seb,” Chris’ hand has tightened on the back of his neck. He’s not even standing and his knees feel weak.

“Sorry,” he whispers, the sound spilling out of him carelessly and raising his embarrassment, he already sounds so affected. Quieted and pacified simply by the potential of having Chris be his dominant. His  _ daddy.  _ Fire ants crawl over his face, marching down his jaw and up to his ears. His head accumulates a few more pounds as it ducks into his own chest, becoming hard to hold up against Chris’ piercing,  _ knowing,  _ gaze. He already is claimed and pinned- Chris  _ knows.  _ He knows everything that happens when he looks at him like _ that _ and sounds like  _ that.  _

Chris’ other hand untangles itself from his and flies to his chin, grabbing it (pinching tiniest amount but still making his head spin) and actually using what it takes of his strength to lift his head. Sebastian doesn’t do a damn thing. He lets desire weaken him, the song of lust turning him to ice-cream on a hot LA sidewalk. 

“Don’t be,” the older man assures him, kindly but not softly. There is no room for argument in his tone of voice or in his eyes. He’s looking straight into his soul, surely finding all of the secrets he holds floating in the darkened surface of his eyes, _ “you’re pretty when you’re turned on.” _ Sebastian chokes. Impulsively trying to shake his head and disagree even as his gut clenches and balls throb. His mind curls around the compliment like it’s the only one he’s received though, making his vision go a little hazy with how fast his eyes come to half-mast. Another whine weasels it’s way out of his shut lips, more of the weight of his head coming to rest on Chris’ fingers. His dick pulses, making him even harder as it swells with eager blood, when he continues on without commenting on his reaction, “yeah,  _ yeah. _ Your eyes get even wider. Darker too, Seb, ‘can seem myself in them now. You know that?” 

Sebastian whimpers, not whines, this time. His fucking traitorous bottom lips works itself between his teeth, his bad habits getting the best of him when he’s stripped down like this. He feels too cold without Chris touching him more and too hot with his worry about what will happen when he  _ does  _ touch him. 

“Words, honey.” Chris purrs, physically pulling his bottom lip from between the vice of his teeth rather than continuing to keep his chin at the level where he likes it best. His voice turns into deep, silky, gravel, “daddy wants an answer out of you.” 

Sebastian’s body is moving without his consent, before his brain can even process what just spilled out of his goddamn mouth, his head crashing into the junction between Chris’ shoulder and neck without missing a beat, one of his hands comes up to cup his dick, his mouth opening into what really a full fucking blown moan, and his entire body breaks out into goosebumps. He trembles a little. The tiniest  most pathetic gasp of, “please” somehow makes its way to the surface, he pushes his hips into his hand again, seeking release again everything in the pulse of heat from friction. Even if it’s not what he really wants. “Please-!” he says it again, unsure if Chris heard him the first time or not, he sounds a little more than a little hysterical to his own ears. 

He’s not even sure what he’s pleasing for. For Chris to touch him. For Chris to say it again. For him to not say it again because he’s already going to explode with his excess arousal. For Chris to give up on making him say it. For Chris to demand he say it again. He wants to say it, he does. His tongue is too heavy and tangled though. His throat is too dry and tight and his head is too busy reeling and absorbing the sound of his voice caressing  _ that  _ word. 

“Please isn’t an answer,” Chris says, his voice low enough to emulate a predatory growl. Mock disappointment igniting an electric buzz under Sebastian’s skin, making his entire body buzz. And subsequently another prey-like noise, high and needy, gets out of him. He clings to Chris’ bigger body harder, digging his fingertips into the hard, well-sculpted muscles of his back, brushing his lips over the heated skin of his neck like a needy kitten- trying to convince da-Chris, trying to convince Chris to let it slide. He wants to be good, he wants to answer. He does  it’s just hard. He’s going to cum in his pants if he keeps fucking talking like that. Authoritative and hot. He wants to be good but he really doesn’t want to say it, he doesn’t want to say it because it’s gonna open the flood gate and Chris probably doesn’t actually know what he’s saying yes to himself because-

Chris’ biceps bulge, his back ripples underneath Seb’s fingertips and palms, and he  _ feels  _ so much bigger all of the sudden. That notion only makes Sebastian’s lip shape the word soundlessly. Suddenly its all the more fitting for him, with how he’s pulling him into his lap like he’s nothing more than a stuffed animal to a child, not a grown fucking man to another grown man. Sebastian feels another watery, little, “please,” slip out of him. Chris doesn’t acknowledge him, instead making sure with  _ those  _ fucking dangerous hands that either of his legs are thrown to the sides of his trim waist before lowering his ass _ right _ over his dick.

Which is very, _ exquisitely _ hard. 

Sebastian has had that dick in his hand and in his mouth and he knows it well by this point- but… he feels his hole clench, his spine light with sparks that fall from his head, and he  _ wants.  _ He wants that fucking dick inside of him. He wants to know how it feels inside of his hole, taking him apart, as opposed to how he knows it feels in his mouth. In his hands. He wants to feel Chris  _ throb _ inside of him because he’s so turned on, so ready to wreck him. He wants that cock inside of him, splitting him apart and forcing him to beg for his daddy to move because he can’t fucking take it when he’s not doing anything. He wants- he wants  _ everything _ . He wants Chris to open him up and make him sit on that fucking glorious cock for hours while he does whatever the fuck work he does at his desk, only checking in on him when he starts crying because daddy’s being mean. Not letting him cum or ride him like he likes. He wants Chris to tie him down and fuck him raw. Until he can’t even scream anymore. He wants- 

“Sebastian,” Chris huffs again. Catching his attention this time with his name and with a wayward hand in his hair, pulling his head back a fraction of an inch and making sure he’s with him. The hand in his hair does not help with catching his attention. Fireworks build under his shut eyelids. More heat laps up his legs and pools itself into his balls and belly. Filling him up with it. Sparks from the pinpricks of individual strands being tugged on dance over his scalp and down his spine and pull on his nerves, making his mouth drop open with a decadent moan, dripping out of his lips like honey. 

Chris chuckles, losing his dominating, serious, all-or-nothing edge for a moment while he proclaims proudly and a little goofily, “forgot that was something you liked for a second, sorry.” A quick, closed-lipped peck is placed over the corner of his mouth.

But he keeps on pulling so he can’t be  _ too  _ sorry. 

Sebastian cries out with the fresh wave of arousal assaulting his body when Chris re-tightens his grip, his bottom lip trembles and he’s so full of energy and need that he can’t not roll his hips down. Tightening his thighs and digging them into Chris’ body, relishing in the way his body gets in the way of doing what he wants to, controlling him without even meaning to. He continues grinding his ass into the proof of Chris’ arousal as his thighs tense and jump with the squeeze of his muscles, enjoying both sensations a little unevenly. Feeling him hot and heavy and  _ hard  _ against him is getting him hotter and hotter with every movement. The tensing of his own muscles just makes him feel soft and weak in comparison to da- to Chris. 

“I wouldn’t keep doing that if I was you, baby,” Chris breathes hot and heavy over his throat. His breath pouring over Sebastian like honey, dripping down his throat and chest and making his dick ache that much more. He wants to sob with how hard he is even though Chris hasn’t touched his cock. Another pathetic cry makes its way into the thick atmosphere between them but his body obeys like he knows it instinctively needs to. He stills. His lungs burn as he tries to quell the heaving of his chest and his muscles itch to move with his arousal, seeking out pleasure single-mindedly. “That’s good,” Chris whispers, embodying everything Sebastian has ever fucking wanted, moving the hand that’s not fisted in his hair from his hip to his ass. Those strong, thick fingers dig into him- Sebastian can’t help his gasp nor can he do anything about the molten lava filling all of the empty spaces in his body, heating him up impossibly further. But he doesn’t move. So Chris doesn’t take his hand away. 

His mouth doesn’t seem to move either but then Chris’ lips and teeth have made themselves acquainted with his ear, his breathing washing over Sebastian like a tide, “you’re doing so good. So good.” 

Sebastian shivers, his fingers finally breaking free and tightening where they’ve come to rest on Chris’ sturdy shoulders. His dick aches in his jeans, pressing too tightly against his zipper, it makes his eyes water. The pressure has him wincing and whimpering, he needs to get out of his fucking clothes, he needs to get Chris out of his clothes- he needs to get Chris naked and  _ inside _ of him. 

He needs it more than he needs air because he can’t fucking breath. And of-fucking-course Chris notices, purring, “hey now, that’s not it baby.” Slipping the hand from his hair to caress the side of his throat… except his hand is big enough that what’s supposed to be a tender touch turns into a borderline choke hold. Sebastian doesn’t borderline choke when he tries to catch his breath, he just chokes on the moan that wants to come out of him. He also chokes on the  _ word  _ that wants out. 

Chris chuckles and shakes his head, stroking a path with a single fingertip down from the hinge of his jaw to the dip between his collarbones, “you’re a mess Seb,” he teases as if he’s not setting a forest fire inside of him. Blazing trails of heat over his skin every time he dares to touch him. He finds himself hyperventilating a little but not moving otherwise, honest to god scared about not being good. Not because he thinks Chris would do anything cruel to him just because he  _ wants  _ to be good. He wouldn’t be able to handle not hearing more of those rumbling compliments. He-

Chris hushes him, getting his hands under his shirt, petting his stomach. Sebastian falls freely back into his chest without thinking about it as one of his palms stretches up his back, putting enough pressure on his shoulder blades to give away his intentions. Inhaling his boyfriend's cologne does wonders for Sebastian’s head. Clearing away more of the haze while firecrackers go off under his touch. Sebastian inhales his smell into his lungs. Taking him in. 

“C’mon,” Chris encourages him, “I just wanna hear you say it, pretty, c’mon.” He pauses, building the tension between them, Sebastian feels his breath pause once more. He feels dizzy with the thick layer of compliments being piled on him, “I know you like it. Know you want it. Jus’ wanna hear you say it. Then-” Chris grabs his cock through his jeans and Sebastian can only moan into the collar of his shirt, probably already drooling onto him. “We can do something about this,” he feels himself twitch in the cup of his palm. Gasping against the little amount of pleasure washing over him like a tsunami after just being denied, denied, denied. 

“Tell daddy, Seb.” 

Sebastian’s eyes shut tight enough to make his vision explode in fireworks as his spine curls and his muscles seize, his throat basically rips apart with the force of his groan but not with what both of them want him to say, his fingers crack as they squeeze Chris so hard and suddenly and all at once he can’t hold it in himself. His skin feels too small for his body, for the feelings inside of him. There’s too much arousal and heat and pleasure inside of him. Chris pushes his palm against him just a little harder, ensuring that the pre-cum wetted part of his boxers brush the head of his still leaking cock, making him confront how much he wants all of this, reminding him that he loves nothing, he craves nothing, the way he does with  _ this.  _ And then he’s tightening his grip on his stupid fucking suddenly fantastically knowing boyfriend, his hands shooting from his shoulder and his bicep to his back, grasping onto him for dear life as he moans into his chest cutting himself off by panting as he rocks forward into his touch automatically, pushing his face into him and whimpering thinly, letting what he desperately wants out of his lips, “d-daddy! Please!” He whines into his throat, nuzzling forward,  _ shaking. _

Chris groans like he’s been punched in the stomach. 

Losing his ability to speak for a while as he frantically stops cupping his dick and instead fumbles with the buttons and zipper of his jeans, making a primal growling sound when Sebastian tries to help. Batting his hands away and mumbling something that sounds too good to be true under his breath, something about wanting to take care of him himself. Sebastian can’t complain though because it feels like fucking heaven to get his jeans unzipped and ripped down his legs, his dick leaking and twitching even more with the newly presented room. His balls throb too, punching whimpers out of him. 

And now that he’s started he can’t stop. All the noises that were previously being kept inside of him start to flow out of him, spilling over his gaped lips and meeting the humid, shared air between them. His hands feel like fire over his skin, pulling goosebumps and sweat alike from his body, commanding him like it’s the only thing he was born to do. Hauling them to face the center of the bed rather than the side where they had been sitting and shoving him back with a hand to the center of his chest. Getting him flat on the bed. Stripping his pants all the way down. Sebastian stares at the ceiling, moaning with the rough treatment. Chris’ teeth nip at the inside of his thighs while he untangles his pants from his ankles, working on his socks too, and the only thing that comes flying out of him is a mewl of, “daddy!”

Chris bites down on him harder, moaning a little himself, his hands having significantly more trouble with his clothes than they did a second ago. Sebastian whines again. His head thrown back as his imagination takes over with wondering how those marks he’s surely leaving will look later. Dark and purple and possessive. Chris having tangibly staked his claim on his skin. His fingers grip the sheets a little harder, feeling Chris’ forehead press to the top of his thigh for a second, a soft, little, “fuck,” coming out of him. 

He can’t help the way his dick twitches or the way his lips ask him, “please daddy.” 

“Jesus,” Chris pants, “hold on baby, gotta get you naked first.” 

And true to his word his fingers get back to work, freeing his last trapped ankle and throwing his jeans as well as his socks over the side of the bed. Discarding them to somewhere that’s so unimportant it might as well be a thousand miles away. Next come his boxers- they get ripped off with just the same amount of enthusiasm if not more. Sebastian wants to cry when his cock is released, smacking his stomach and causing him to hiss at the erotic sting that sinks into his bones, making them vibrate with the feeling. Chris literally  _ crawls _ up the bed, caging in his body as he does, when he’s done. Blocking him in against the bed with the width of his chest and his thick arms, a smirk dripping off of his face, charming and dirty. Sebastian salivates at that look. His hips knocking upwards at the mere intentions that’ve spread themselves over his face, filthy and erotic. He’s not sure if he possibly could be able to blush more but if it is possible it’s certainly happening. 

Chris yanks up the bottom of his shirt, ducking down when he’s got it up enough. Sebastian is busy enough mourning his gorgeous face that it takes him by complete surprise when Chris’ lips meet his stomach, hot, scorching, filthy kissing being dragged up the tensing skin. He throws his head back into the pillows once again, a long, gasping moan cutting free of him. His lips feel so good. Hot and slick and erotic. His skin is buzzing with it, practically pulsing under the attention sending stabs of pleasure straight through him. 

“Up,” Chris groans when he gets to his sternum even though in the very same breath he’s just getting one of his hands between his back and the bed and lifting him up anyway, making him arch his back forward anyway, putting him on display for his darkened eyes. His lips are swollen and red, shiny with his own saliva and Sebastian wants so badly to kiss him that he whimpers. Staring at his mouth unabashedly and missing the sight the second his shirt gets whipped over his head. 

Chris sets him back against the mattress, lowering himself down too until they’re chest to chest. Pressed together completely. 

Sebastian gets his hands to work again and he gets his under his shirt, wanting it off too,  _ it’s only fair.  _ He feels Chris’ hot, smooth skin underhand for literally a second before he’s distracted by his lips, pressed hot against his own. His tongue decadently licking into his already open mouth, catching his easily. Sebastian moans, adding his own noise to the wet sounds of their mouths sliding together inelegantly but extremely gratifyingly. Messy and wet. Before his mind melts entirely into mush he drags his blunt nails down his back, under his shirt, and whimpers, trying to pull away enough to tell him he needs to get rid of it immediately but not being strong enough willed to make himself do it. Chris nips the tip of his tongue then his lower lip and Sebastian’s body goes limp as a gutted moan makes its way out of his chest. 

Chris is gentlemanly enough - or devious enough - to let him have his rest, not moving when Sebastian falls back into the bed. Panting and feeling helpless in the most delicious way. The gap between their lips is filled with an electric charge. The older man then decides to drop his hips even further, stacking their hips together and rutting his denim covered cock into Sebastian’s bare one. 

Sebastian  _ wails.  _

“Oh hoo,” Chris growls, doing it again and again and forcing more of those noises out of him, “that feel good, huh?” Sebastian curls his legs around him, keeping him close, and nods frantically- drunkenly. His body buzzes. His cock throbs, the friction has him wanting to crawl out of his body, it’s just on the perfect side of too much and too rough, the scratch of the fabric of Chris’ pants on his bare skin. But, also, he would fucking lose his goddamn mind if it stopped even though he knows he’s just rubbing himself raw. Chris some-fucking-how gets a hand into his hair then, tugging on the longest part of his hair, at the crown of his head, to force his neck to arch. Presenting the most vulnerable part of his body to Chris’ dark, hungry eyes, “tell me,” he whispers against his Adam's apple. His voice all gravel and velvet. 

Naturally the first thing that comes from him is another ruined version of, “da-daddy,” it has Chris humping down onto him in pure, selfish need rather than his incessant need to tease. Sebastian makes an embarrassing noise from the friction, “feels so, so good. Feels- ah!” Sebastian cuts himself off, Chris is back to pulling unforgivingly at his hair. He whimpers so pathetically that he squirms under him, embarrassed by how hard all of this is hitting him. Not wanting any of it to stop. 

“What do you want me to do about it?” The bastard asks, stopping the smooth, sharp thrusts of his hips. Sebastian feels like his strings have been cut with the lack of pleasure although his nails dig into what of Chris that he can reach, his mind takes long enough to catch up to have Chris rephrase his question, “what do you want  _ daddy _ to do about it?” He shutters, the additional question not fucking helping at all, his legs tensing and clinging to his fully clothed figure so hard that they ache, deep, way down in the muscles. Chris kisses the shit out of him, repeating himself once more through the demanding, dominating stare he’s got down to a motherfucking science as he pulls away, their lips still brushing as they heave in breaths. 

Sebastian squirms, “fffuck me,” he shakily states, his lips loose with all the overwhelming feelings getting him good. 

They haven’t done that. He wants it though. He wants it so bad. 

Chris doesn’t move for a moment and he sees just the tiniest flicker of hesitation and worry dash through his ocean-blue eyes, darkened by the oil spill of his pupils. He lets whatever beast he’s let out of him sink back into the recesses of his mind. Anxiety flares inside of Sebastian’s chest and whimper is forced out by the competing pressure, words bubble up out of him straight after, “want you to fuck me. Daddy. I- I need it.” Sebastian speaks up as much as he can, staring right back at him the whole time. Chris crumbles on top of him, their foreheads meeting. 

“You’re sure?” Chris whispers, nearly inaudible like he doesn’t want to spoil the illusion or something, being so uncertain even when he’s been assigned a roll of authority. When he could just push forward and  _ take  _ him because he said it. Finally. 

“Yes,” Sebastian breathes, disbelief of how earnest he is coloring his voice, “really.” Chris nods once and then twice, “is that something you want, Chris?” He checks in, using his real name not the title they’ve been playing with. Just to be sure. Getting to see the puzzle pieces in his eyes fit together while becoming aware of his non-understanding if they’re fitting together because he wants this or because he wants to please him. He knows Chris offered this to him because he wants it-

Chris kisses the corner of his mouth, interrupting the flow of his thoughts, “more than anything,” he chuckles, pushing his hips forward again so Sebastian can again feel how hard he is. Sebastian’s eyelashes flutter at the feeling. Heat centering around his crotch and pooling heavily, making his need come to the forefront of his mind. 

“I want you inside of me, like, now, please.” He offers, lowering his voice with the sheer amount of honestly contained heavily within his words. He doesn’t struggle to get them out at all, that’s how hard his wants are thundering through him. 

He watches the slight widening of Chris’ eyes and the little drop of his bottom lip, a gentle smack coming from the movement. Shock dances over his face before mischief covers it up, getting rid of the surprise in his upfront words. Something darker takes over. Stepping back into the light of his eyes, his lips pulling into a smirk as his eyes refocusing into whatever it is that takes over them when he gets back to the way he was earlier. Sebastian shivers. “You need me inside you, huh? Need daddy to make you feel better?” 

Sebastian is actually one thousand percent going to faint. He gasps. Writhing impatiently. Nodding breathing out, “yes. Yes. Yes, please,” feeling completely desperate and needy all at once. 

His head getting swept into the wild call of his body, his hips coming up even as he gasps wetly at the near painful friction, he’s too sensitive now, his chest feels tight and hot with all of the arousal packed into it. He wants to wail when he thinks of how much he’s got to be ruining Chris’ excruciatingly well-fitted jeans with his weeping cock. It twitches in response to his thoughts, Chris smirks, patting his side like he’s congratulating him. His cheeks burn as does his throat with the ragged edges to his breath. His fingernails bite into Chris again but now his hands are shaking enough for Chris to notice. The other man stares into his eyes so intensely that he looks beyond his soul, finding even deeper parts of him, searching and accepting those depths as he encircles his wrist. Sebastian wants to squirm but feels paralyzed, both needing to get away from such a  _ knowing  _ look and wanting to never leave it. He doesn’t do anything, he just stews in his arousal, his agony, watching Chris bring his wrist up to his mouth. Placing a sweet kiss at his pulse point. Adoration bursts through Sebastian’s mouth with it’s sudden swell, “Chris,” he signs. 

The man in question blinks, slow and cat-like, at him. Not saying a word- just stretching up to place his arm where he wants it. Above his head. A tap to his other bicep has Sebastian pulling his other arm up to match the placement of his other one. 

“Good,” he rasps, Sebastian tightens his legs around him, mewling a little from the praise and the hungry, lust-soaked stare boring into him. 

Seeing Chris’ long and toe-curlingly thick fingers coated in lube makes something animal and ancient curl tight inside of him. He feels the way his eyes widen at the sight. Sending ripples of erotic electricity up and down his spine, lighting him up and making him want to arch into the phantom feeling of his lips and fingers, his hole clenches. Looking at what’s about to be inside of him. Because despite having lubed up, he’s not fucking touching him. Sebastian wants to get down on his knees next to the bed and plead but he also wants to  _ growl.  _ He wants something inside of him soon because he’s going to die from blue balls otherwise. 

Looking at the way the lube catches the little light there is - coming from Chris’ bedside lamb and the moon - dripping down his fingers to his knuckles and then the back of his hand and his palm alike has his mouth watering. Sebastian  _ wants.  _

“Ready, sweetheart?” Chris rumbles, dragging his eyes up from his bent leg to his nearly-purple cock (which moves under his gaze like it knows it’s being watched) to his abs to his chest and then to his face. His first instincts scream for him to bring down his hands from where Chris told him to put them and cover up his face. He’s been looked at like the other person wanted him, yes, but he’s never been looked at like  _ that.  _

He’s never been looked at by a predator that’s been starved and  _ knows  _ where they’re getting their next meal from. 

Chris’ eyes are dark with lust and desire but also  _ hunger.  _

Sebastian chokes on his reedy little, _ “yes,”  _ and he fucking means it. He can’t tear his eyes from Chris’, there’s too much in them pulling him in like an arousing vortex for him to even think of it. Chris is hypnotizing him. Turning from an inexperienced, confused puppy to a wolf that’s bloodthirsty for power. 

Chris prowls forward, balancing himself on one hand and his knees, casually smirking… 

Sebastian’s body jolts like he’s being electrocuted, a sharp, high, feminine gasp cutting straight from his throat into the little air between them as Chris’ lubed hand gives him exactly one up and down stroke. Tight and wet and perfect. Before he’s pulling away, leaving him untouched once more as he whines low in his throat, debating if crying is worth it or not. “Shh,” Chris hushes him, stroking a single fingertip down the shaft of his twitching, aching cock, painting a line of lube from the head of his dick to his balls and down even further. Getting to his hole and tracing little circles around his rim. No noises get out of him. His lips stay gaped though. His eyes stay shut but his breathing speeds even more, slipping exclusively into little noises, sliding right out of him without his knowledge. 

“Use your manner, Sebastian,” he can  _ hear  _ the grin in his voice. 

More shivers overtake his strung-out muscles, attacking them easily and getting into his very core. Making him shaky and easy. Pleasure at the tonal whiplash and use of his full name sucker-punch him straight in the gut, forcing out his words before he has time to think about them, “‘m ready, daddy, please!” 

“Please what?” 

_ Motherfucker. How is he so fucking good at this?  _ Sebastian wants to whine aloud at his thoughts. 

But he obeys, he crumbles under the weight of his voice and the barely there caresses of his fingers at his entrance, “pl-please open me up, daddy,” he whines. Breathless with arousal. 

“Mmm,” Chris weighs his response, humming to himself and either pretending or really starting to pull away his hand. Sebastian bites his lip, swallowing down the sob that’s clawed its way to his tongue. His vision wobbles with and dilutes with his tears. 

“Please. Please, please!” He starts to dryly sob, “pluh-!” Chris taps his entrance, making ear-burning wet, obscene noises with the lube he’s spreading around him. He groans, “please! Chris! Daddy! Want, want-” his cheeks feel even hotter than possible, he kind of wants to swallow his own tongue in embarrassment but the fire burning inside of his boyfriend’s eyes calls to him, enchanting his tongue and making his desire spill over his lips, “want y-your fingers in me. Want you to open me up-” Chris raises an eyebrow, pointedly rubbing harder over his hole. His hips pulse down onto the tease of an intrusion. His inhibitions become dust. 

A tear rolls down his cheek with another sob, “want,” he sniffles a little, “want you to open me on your fin-fingers so, so- uhh, so you can fuck me daddy. Wanna get daddy’s cock inside me. Want it bad.” 

“Jesus, fuck, kid,” Chris growls, astonished. 

Sebastian’s dick aches and his balls throb, his rim trying to flutter and pull him in. Choking on his own excess spit and the fucking use of  _ kid.  _ God. Jesus. Fuck- it makes him feel dirty. Filthy. Like some extra that Chris has dragged into his hotel room for a quick fuck and wasn’t expecting him to be that good of a fuck, just a little blowing off steam. Nothing fancy. Like he wasn’t expecting to have his mind blown. Like he wasn’t expecting him, the  _ “kid”  _ that’s  _ “such a sweetheart”  _ and who  _ “wouldn’t hurt a fly”,  _ to be so dirty. 

He sobs again, opening his mouth with the intention of getting to his daddy one last time, whispering his wrecked words,  _ “plllllease, daddy, I need it.”  _

His finger pushes into him, finally and sweetly getting inside of his body. Sebastian moans like it’s the best thing he’s ever fucking felt even though it’s barely a stretch and he already wants more of him. His head dropping back to the bed and his fingers restlessly tangling together. He bears his hips down, trying to get Chris to go faster without outright demanding it. He doesn’t wanna be daddy’s brat. He wants to be his  _ good boy. _

“Ohh, pretty, look at youuuu,” Chris teases, his voice dipping into an even richer register that has him clenching around his finger, whining and squirming more than he’d care to admit. He chuckles, pressing a kiss into the crease of his thigh, avoiding his achy dick purposefully, “you’re so greedy.” He whispers, like he’s scared Sebastian’s not going to like it or he’s not even trying to make sure he hears it. 

But he does like and he does hear it. And Sebastian can’t hide that he definitely doesn’t not like it, he rolls his head over toward one of the walls rather than the ceiling, moaning. Slurring a pathetic, little, “nnno!” Even as his hips twitch down again, seeking more than just his finger up to the second knuckle to stretch him out. Even if just a bit of his finger feels like more than a single one of his own. Even thinking about the comparison between him and Chris has more heat and electricity pouring into his open body because, fuck, they’re basically the same height save for an inch or two but… but,  _ god,  _ Chris is so much stronger and  _ bigger. _ Wider too. Everything about him is  _ more  _ than Sebastian- except for his waist of course. He shivers again, or, maybe he just keeps shivering and quaking and trying to get more than what he’s been giving. Unable to help his own needs. 

The man above him, taking him apart, chuckles, dragging his lips down his thigh, getting as close as possible, “can feel it though, Seb- don’t lie to daddy.” He cries out, rolling his head from one side to the next again and again, trying to get himself out of his hysteria. Barely even remembering what in the hell Chris is referring to. He’s not sure he cares because it feels good anyway, heat coiling around and filling his body. “Can feel you clenching down on me, trying to get more.” Sebastian wants to  _ scream. _ “Can feel how much you love this-” Chris presses his finger forward after he finishes his little evil fucking speech. 

Sebastian forgets how to breathe. 

His body tightens everywhere as he feels the very top of Chris’ palm, his entire finger making itself at home inside of him, just another maybe inch and a half of him sliding into his body but making all of the difference. A noise that he doesn’t recognize as coming from his own vocal cords rises out of him. Indicating the surging, swelling pleasure wrecking his insides. His finger feels a hell of a lot thicker than it looks, leaving him speechless, making his insides  _ shake.  _

Then he crooks his finger, curling it into a come hither movement that  _ kills  _ him. 

It really just does him in, wrecking him for anyone else, anything else. Nothing is going to feel as good. As satisfying. As teasing. Setting his nerves on fucking fire. His jaw loosens more, propping open his mouth and drying his throat while drool escapes the corners of his lips, a little messy plea of,  _ “‘addy,”  _ coming out of him. Soft and tiny. Embarrassing as all hell. 

The only reaction from Chris is another finger, slipping into next to the first and stretching him wider, forcing him to feel the give and throb of his own body. Making him come alive all over again. Giving his taste-buds the first bite of sting, sweeping over his tongue and dripping down his throat, getting into his stomach and finally making itself acquainted with his insides, making them feel like they’re vibrating. Like all of his insides have been turned into liquid heat. He feels crazy. Writhing as little as possible - which isn’t as little as it should be - under the attention and mewling for more,  _ he wants all of it. Every bit. _ Two of Chris’ fingers are like three of his own and he’s  _ salivating, _ thinking of what his cock is going to do to him. How animal it’s going to make him. How much it’s going to take him out of his goddamn mind. 

If Chris keeps talking to him - calling him sweet but humiliating things - he doesn’t hear it over the ringing in his ears. 

Chris is  _ so good  _ at this. Stretching apart and thrusting his fingers perfectly, to an unknown but immaculate beat, making him fall apart, brick by brick. Getting him down to nothing but his rawest, truest self. Naked as the day he was born and then some as tears begin to pour from him, wetting his flushed cheeks and Chris’ sheets, begging for  _ daddy _ when he originally was scared to even say it out loud for fear of Chris’ reaction because he thinks sometimes that he couldn’t live without him. Never once did he stop to think that it would unlock something dangerously carnal and dark and sexy inside of him. Never once did he think that that title would pull Chris into something that turns around to bite him in the ass- wrecking and  _ destroying _ him. 

Two becomes three. And Sebastian says good-fucking-bye to his mind. 

His brain is long gone, having melted out of his ears and been replaced with desires that have begun to puppet his body in motions that scream and beg for more pleasure. Desperately moving him. Making his hips rock messily down and his mouth twist into a wrecked, heaving sob when Chris pins him down, using all of the weight he has over him to hold him in place. Being overtaken by want. Making his dick throb and pulse against his abs, leaking like he’s never seen it do before- he so fucking turned on. And it’s craving any kind of attention, engorged and purple. He needs to fucking cum. But he doesn’t want to cum without Chris inside of him, he could take it. Not when he’s so fucking close to getting his cock. 

Then. 

Then all of his fingers are gone and Sebastian’s sobbing turns anguished, the fire under his skin continuing to burn through his nerves and muscle and skin with frightening intensity, stealing every inhibition he has and melting it down to one thought:  _ more.  _ He barely feels himself squirming and shaking so hard that he can’t keep his hands fisted into the sheets, all he feels is the gaping of his own body- the lack of Chris, of  _ daddy,  _ filling him up. He wills for his arms to stay in place above his head because he’s got no idea of what the fuck his own body is doing. 

“Hey,” Chris’ breath washes over his face, “hey, Seb, you’re okay, ‘m not going anywhere. Just gotta get myself ready for you, ‘kay?” 

His eyes open to the sight of Chris’ face above his, his lashes sticking together heavily and his eyelids fighting against the light in the room as he looks at him. Unspilled tears make the other man look angelic, bright and fuzzy. He swallows another sob. He nods. Shutting his lips tight enough to not allow for all the pathetic, needy, hungry noises boiling in his chest to get out, effectively stopping the growing tremble in them too. 

His eyes slide shut as Chris’ lips brush over his mouth, sweet and full of heady intentions, “I know it’s hard,” he pauses to chuckle a little but he doesn’t. He doesn’t even understand why he’s laughing- he doesn’t mind but… he’s too out of it. He just wants more. “But you gotta sit tight for me, baby.” Daddy kisses him for real then, still hovering over him, his big, solid body pushing him tightly against the bed; he wriggles a little against his weight, enjoying it immensely. Daddy’s still trying to take care of him. In the back of his throat a tiny noise makes itself known, “sit nice and still for me, yeah?” Sebastian nods once, slowly, and then keens because he oh-so casually follows it up with an effortless command slash hidden compliment, “give daddy something pretty to look at while he gets himself ready for you.” 

Sitting still without any of daddy’s fingers or his dick inside of him is easier after that, his brain lulling down further into the slow honey drip of gold and pink of giving up control of himself as he watches him get himself ready after so beautifully prepping him. His eyes feel heavier but not like he’s sleepy, there’s too much heat, electricity, and excitement slowing the blood in his veins to a thick simmer for him to fall asleep. His dick is too hard and achy for that to be a possibility. Plus there’s nothing more erotic them watching daddy’s hands drag over his own body, touching himself. Those big, gorgeous hands scorching paths down his sculpted, huge chest and finding the waistband of his pants, tugging them open and making Sebastian’s mouth drop open. His boxers are even fucking tighter than his jeans. He can  _ see  _ his cock completely through them. Every ridge and vein and everything. His mouth floods with saliva, collecting at the corners of his lips before it spills over, onto his own face. 

He doesn’t think for even a second about shutting his mouth. He just lets himself drool and choke while daddy doesn’t even take off his pants and underwear, he just gets them down low enough to get his cock out. Sebastian cries out hysterically. His thighs snapping closed as he’s filled with carnal urges to fill himself with something, to get friction from something, to do fucking  _ anything.  _

Daddy’s eyes flick up, dangerous and smug, “stay.” He commands. His mouth shuts with an audible noise, clicking. His body freezes without his mind doing anything but staying in it’s loop of  _ please  _ and  _ more. _ “Good boy,” he praises him. And an army of shivers march over every inch of his body. His cock twitches so violently that it makes a mess of pre-cum trickle over the side of his body, making its way down to ruin the sheets. 

Sebastian shivers and tenses and does fucking everything he can to not move an inch, just to curl in on himself internally when the other man starts stroking himself. Hyperventilating because it’s the only thing he can do and he fucking needs  _ something.  _ He needs some form of release. He’s got to have something to quell the inferno engulfing him. 

He listens with everything he has inside of himself to the noises coming out of daddy as he strokes himself, ripping open a condom with his teeth and sliding it on expertly, trying to not even breathe so he can hear everything. The filthy, toe-curling and ear-burning wet sounds of the lube against his skin become a much lesser second to the growling moans and groans that slip through his gaped lips. The gasping, obscene, breathy moans of  _ “oooohh” _ crawling up his throat. His brow furrows and his eyes shut tight with the sounds like it hurts to touch himself after being ignored for so long. Without his commands tying his body down Sebastian knows he would be flipping himself over and pushing up onto his knees so he could make sure daddy could  _ see  _ where he needs him the most. Where he wants him. Make it easy for him to slide into him and carve a place for himself inside of his body, where he could live for as fucking long as he wants. 

Sebastian’s so caught up in his own sloppy, melted brain that he does notice when daddy stops stroking himself with a pained, groaned,  _ “fuck”.  _ He doesn’t witness the burning flames consuming his eyes when he first snaps them open again. Carnal hunger. 

All he notices is how one second daddy’s hands are on himself, making himself feel good, and the next they’re biting into him, grabbing at his thighs. Spreading him wide for his own eyes. And only his eyes. Digging his strong fingers into him until Sebastian can only throw his head back and barely hang onto his wail, the slight pain adding nothing but an extra, gorgeous melody to the cacophony making itself at home inside of him. Shattering him like a wine glass with how loud it’s getting. “Gonna fuck you now, Seb,” he groans, his voice gravel coated in honey, rough but rich and smooth somehow, his throbbing, hot,  _ hard,  _ cock dragging against his ass. Between his cheeks like he’s planning on just rubbing off against him and cumming all over him. 

He trembles, barely able to move his own body enough to gasp out,  _ “please!” _ Overwhelming arousal drowning him, dunking his head under the surface and holding him there. Forcing him to bath in the agonizing pleasure that’s yet to build into release. He wants to cum. He wants to cum on daddy’s cock. 

All he knows is thirst and hunger. 

Then daddy slides into him and all he knows is  _ nothing.  _

Nothing but pleasure so strong that it’s gotten its hands around his throat and is demanding that he  _ only _ feel it, feel pleasure, and that he can’t even pollute the feeling with oxygen entering his body or the beating of his own heart. All he needs is pleasure. It can replace the blood in his veins and still keep him alive. He can feast off of the all encompassing pleasure, filling his every pore and forcing out anything else and be more than satisfied. There’s not a word strong enough and good enough to describe the feeling. Sebastian doesn’t know if he screams or whines or just keeps gasping. His mind goes white and bright. 

He does know though that daddy gasps and grabs at him harder as he slides himself inside of him, hopefully leaving bruises that will last for at least a week. Moaning low and raw into the side of his face as he pushes into him, _ “oooh, fuck, baby.”  _ He sounds pained with how good it feels and it makes Sebastian fly higher, his mind dipping deeper. 

Pleasure thickens impossibly and time slows down so much that Sebastian’s not convinced that it’s not just stopped. 

But then daddy stops. 

And Sebastian comes back alive, his muscles tugging his limbs under the control of all that pleasure - not under the control of his own mind - just thinking of getting more. Spreading through him like a virus. His hands shake and tremble and curl into daddy’s broad, muscular back, groping uselessly because he can’t put his own mind together enough to grab onto him. He’s clawing at him really. His legs spread themselves the tiniest bit farther apart, making his muscles tingle with the stretch, shooting straight up to his cock. He whimpers and whines, and at some point he’s begun crying again- full force. Although, he’s not sure he didn’t just never stop sobbing. His throat feels raw enough for that to be the case. Daddy’s only half way inside him. And he  _ stopped.  _

His body throbs and stings a little around him but it’s  _ not enough. _ Sebastian wants everything he can give him. He wants all of it. He wants all of his cock inside of him, he craves it like it’s something he’s had before and has had to miss for decades, craving fruitlessly. 

“Christ, lookit you,” daddy mumbles, out of breath and awed. 

Sebastian whines, slurring his words out a lot louder than he intends to, “wan-want all‘ff you!” 

Daddy doesn’t move. His cock stays where it is, half buried inside of his body and throbbing. Sebastian can  _ feel  _ how bad he’s fighting against himself to not just ram into and out of him until they both come, and he’s crying now because he wants it just as bad. 

“Daddy,” Sebastian honest-to-god cries, “pl-please, please, ple-Ese! Want you!” He finds daddy’s shoulders with his shaking hands and so he digs in his fingers, feeling weak and small under him,  _ “please.”  _ Nothing happens for a moment. He whimpers. 

Daddy groans, “you’re fucking  _ trouble _ , Seb,” but he’s slowly pushing himself in again and Sebastian’s choking on it. His cock sliding into him, giving him more and more and more and more until it feels like he’s in his throat. Fucking his entire body and ruining him for everyone else. Pressing into every sensitive part of his body and stretching him out. Laying him out, vulnerable and open. He’s never felt anything better. The inevitable sting is even good, like an angel’s choir in the back of his mind. 

“Sebastian,” daddy’s breath fans over his face, his lips, as he shoves in the last little bit. Sebastian shuts his eyes tighter, his mouth falling open with a pitiful sound. His breath gets kicked from his chest with that tiny little bit more of his cock sliding into him, forcing everything inside of him out with how much room he takes up. Everything inside of him is just daddy. All of it. His body is vibrating with the assaulting pleasure. Everything he knows and feels is daddy- is Chris. 

“Chris,” Sebastian half gasps and half sobs, the last of his breath leaving him and forming daddy’s name. Every sentiment that he wants to say leaking out behind the soft call of his name. A lot of heat comes out with it too but that’s beyond the point. Daddy melts further into him. Laying his entire weight on top of him, not holding himself up for once. He does the same, letting all of his tension go, silent with his obedience. His muscles melt like his brain had, leaving his body as nothing but liquid, pure pleasure in the shape of a man. Thinly held together heat and lava and lust curling so far into him that he’s not sure where he ends and it begins. He is nothing but desire. He doesn’t exist anymore, he’s just hunger. He is nothing but hungry for daddy. He is daddy’s. He wants nothing more than to be daddy’s. To be claimed.

Daddy pulses inside of him, stopping any of his circling, dirty thoughts with just one tiny, involuntary movement. His cock twitching with the new room it’s found as he relaxes. He murmurs something into his hair, Sebastian doesn’t catch it on account of being wrapped around the way his cock feels inside of his body. Hot and heavy. Fulfilling. Tear-jerking. 

_ It’s everything he wants and more.  _

His hazy brain reminds him that he still wants to cum though and his body fights it damn well knowing that he could reach rapture easily that way but also knowing that he could stay like this, a statue, and age with Chris inside of him- reaching rapture all the same but slower. Filling up all of him and staying at home in his body. Pleasure and arousal buzzing around them, sparks of fireflies. Lulling them into an erotic haze, lazing and aging in a golden hue. 

Then daddy puuulls back-

And all of that goes flying out of the window as time stretches like warm taffy threatening to push him from his body with the exorbitant amount of feelings. His  _ soul  _ fucking aches with the need for release, pulsing and throbbing like a raw nerve, demanding his attention and soothing the away anything else that dares to touch him. He needs to cum. He needs for daddy to fucking fuck him. Fuck him raw. He wants to remember every fucking second of this for the next two fucking weeks whenever he sits down or gets up or does anything. He wants to get hard whenever he moves because his body still knows the delicious, fiery ache of having him inside of him. Stretching him out and filling him up. 

Daddy fucks forward.

Sebastian’s world is re-ignited with color and feeling. And a moan rips it’s way from him with the intensity of the feelings, the sound dangerously close to a scream with its volume and jagged edges. Chris moans too- just as affected. Panting harshly into his shoulder and neck, nearly growling when he heaves his hips all the way forward once more. Circling his hips and pressing hard and unforgiving against his prostate with it, savoring the feeling of being fully inside of him. Sebastian sobs, tears leaking out of him faster under the crashing wave of pleasure. So sharp and bright and brilliant that his mind doesn’t process it for a whole moment, leaving him in limbo before smashing him into ecstasy. He moans again. Loud and unabashed. He’s never felt anything so good. 

He thought he was on fire before but that feeling was nothing compared to  _ this.  _

Feeling daddy pull out again and choking with the loss, with the realization of just how fucking large he is and how deep he can get into him. Weeping over the pleasure. Drowning in the pleasure. Feeling like nothing but a timid matchstick under a blow torch. Getting fucking hammered and pounded into and doing nothing but taking it because that’s all that he can do. All he can do is lie back and absorb every thrust of daddy’s hips because he’s so heavy and all-consuming atop him that he can barely process any of the pleasure. Everything is pleasurable. Everything feels unspeakably good. Every bruising thrust shoves moan after moan out of him, burning his throat raw and scraping his vocal cords. 

He’s losing not just his mind but everything. Sebastian doesn’t know where he ends and daddy begins with the way he’s fucking into him like he owns him - making the hottest, animalistic noises as he does like he can’t help it - he’s not even sure they’re separate anymore. Every time daddy’s breath gets punched out of his chest and washes over his hyper-sensitive, burning, flushed skin his own gets kicked from his throat, high and whiny. Every forward thrust of daddy’s hips make Sebastian’s hips buck up, searching for more even while he’s not honestly sure that there could be a better feeling in the fucking world. Every little noise - grunt, groan, or moan - that comes out of the other man is chased by one of his own. Which are embarrassingly much higher and more feminine. He can’t help it. It feels  _ so  _ good. 

“You- you take it so good,” daddy growls, the praise dripping in filth, as he hooks his rock-solid arms tighter around his shoulders and upper body so he can keep him close. Caging him in. 

Sebastian mewls, desperately getting his neck to arch the last fucking little bit that it can. His neck pops in retaliation but he doesn’t fucking care. He moans anyway, feeling reckless and a little bit not like himself. More greedy and slutty and open; the animal being forced out of him by the animal in Chris. Pushing himself up into his hulking frame the best he can when he’s being held down. Held down and fucked into so hard that he’s sliding up the motherfucking bed. He crazily hopes that he’ll have a rash from it- he wants  _ evidence _ from this. He wants all of daddy’s marks: he wants his hickeys, his fingerprint bruises, his everything. His goddamn arms are still above his head and now his knuckles are hitting against the headboard because of their enthusiasm. daddy groans into his skin, licking a wet, dirty line up the side of his neck before opening his stupidly hot mouth again. Whisper-growling straight into his ear, “you take daddy so good.” 

Sebastian hardly recognized the  _ sound  _ that cuts out of him as pure lust and heat stabs into his gut, forcing him to instinctively tighten around daddy. Losing control of whatever the hell his body is doing- leaving it to its own devices with how it wants to react. His legs instantly fly to curl back around his sweaty, hot form from where they were splayed wide open. Curling around him with a renewed need. He keens and gasps with the new feeling, tugging him closer and forcing himself to somehow feel  _ more  _ of daddy. He feels  _ bigger _ and  _ deeper  _ like this. His thighs squeezing his lower back and waist. Feeling his body undulate, his sweaty muscles tensing and rippling with the force it takes to plow into him. All of it gets him impossibly hotter, hotter than he would care to admit when not being taken apart. And he’s embarrassingly close to cumming considering how not long they’ve been at this. Even his fingers react, curling tight enough into his palms to undoubtedly leave deep and possibly bloody marks. 

But his mouth keeps hanging open because he can do nothing to verbalize his oncoming orgasm besides wail and moan and whine and hysterically sob. He squeezes his eyes tighter shut, watching explosions of color burst behind his eyelids from the crescendo of pleasure and from the force of his own muscles. He clenches tighter around daddy. Whimpering when daddy moans right into his ear, squirming with the shivery feeling. Surely breaking out into goosebumps. His legs fall a little lax under the weight of all the feelings ruining him. Wrecking his body and mind. 

Daddy keeps going. And going. Fucking into him seemingly harder and harder despite the reality that he probably doesn’t have  _ harder.  _ He’s probably taking him apart with every bit of strength that he’s got. The thought forces out another unrecognizable noise that does nothing but voice all of his building pleasure and ravenous desperation. 

“Never had anybody better,” Chris moans, out of breath and rough and perfect. 

And Sebastian is spilling in between them before he can even swallow the feeling of cresting the tallest cliff he’s ever reached, gasping and  _ literally  _ screaming. Before he can warn daddy about it in any way at all. 

Cumming completely untouched. 

Everything around him explodes into nothing but pleasure, burning hotter than lava around him. Incinerating him. Hot and white and unbearably good. He’s not sure if he writhes under the force of it or if he stays stock still, cut limb, because he’s tangled entirely up in the pleasure. Reaching rapture. Anything that isn’t hot, hot pleasure is forced out of his existence. Out of sight and sure as hell out of his mind. 

It feels so fucking good. So good that his teeth ache. So good that his bones shatter under the force. So good that his cock keeps twitching even after he’s done cumming. So good that it’s indescribable. Nothing can touch him. 

Daddy can touch him. 

“Dear fucking god,” daddy rumbles, petting his hand through his hair, not pulling. Sebastian tries to breath somewhat normally, feeling a weak stab of arousal at the wrecked tone to his voice. Feeling pride in the way he’s stripped him down in such a way. 

Daddy’s rocking inside of him. Not quite thrusting in and out of him but moving with a ragged edge to him. Clearly unable to keep himself still but aware enough of himself to consider how Sebastian might feel about him moving. Sebastian glows. All but literally purring underneath him. Sebastian can’t open his eyes, everything was drained out of him with that not just earth-shattering but universe-shattering orgasm. But he can slur out, “wan’ you t’ c’m-” barely able to get the words out at an audible volume. Daddy groans, thankfully understanding. Beginning to pull out until Sebastian manages a record breakingly speedy reply of a strung out, unhappy whine, floundering to open his eyes. Fuck-drunk as all hell. 

Daddy is beautifully stubborn and adorable as he raggedly replies, “I don’t want to hurt you though, baby,” but he does slide back in the little amount that he pulled out of him. 

The motion makes a louder than expected gasp fall from Sebastian’s lax, drool-shiny lips, “wan’ it.” He offers. Tired but eager. Enough heat still boiling inside of him for him to feel hungry for daddy to use him to get off. 

Thankfully it’s enough sentiment for him to get on with it. Starting out with baby thrusts that remind Seb that he’s still in his jeans, the denim getting pushed against his buzzing, slightly sore ass. That gives him another lazy wave of pleasure, lapping over him easily,  _ daddy was too desperate to fuck him to get naked he just pulled them down far enough to get his cock out. _

Daddy gets back into it, realizing that he can take it. Fucking into him with enough gusto to push little sharp, “ah! Ah! AH!”s out of him with every thrust of his hips. His cock getting shoved straight against his prostate and making Sebastian mourn with his inability to get it up against so fucking fast. Well. ‘ _ Fast’  _ implies that he knows how long it’s been. He’s got no idea what is happening beyond the increasingly high noises coming out of Chris that are pouring over into the air between them. 

Five, ten, fifteen more thrusts are all it takes to make daddy cum. The noise he makes has Sebastian’s toes curling, making him feel light-headed. Each of them punctuated by his own gasps and mewls that are being fucked out of him by his fucking fantastic dick, his “sweet noises” according to daddy. daddy keeps talking and making noise the whole time up until he’s cumming into him. Rambling about his noises, how hot and tight he is inside, how good he is at taking it, his awe with his ability to cum untouched, and so many other things that keep Sebastian pinned between being hard and soft. Sparks still lighting up under his skin in a very peaceful way. Enjoying his pleasure without the thrumming  _ now, now, now _ of his need, being able to feel every part of what’s happening- not just the overwhelming pleasure. It’s good in a different way. Just as pleasurable somehow and also meditative. 

When Chris pulls out of him after spilling into the condom he rolls them over with shaking, exerted limbs but Sebastian finds himself collapsing onto him regardless, drawn to him even when they’re both sweaty and gross. Giggling and nuzzling into him, not entirely joking as he lays his head on his chest, “thanks, daddy.” 

Chris chuckles, his chest vibrating beneath his head, “was I any good?” He asks, genuine as always. He nods, pressing a kiss to the swell of his chest under his head. Chris signs, accepting his answer, replying with all the earnestness in the fucking world, “anytime, Seb.” 

There’s silence for a moment. Settling over them like a blanket even while Sebastian knows that there’s something else that Chris wants to say to him. For a moment Sebastian’s still hormone soaked brain thinks that he might tell him he loves him - they both know the other does, they just haven’t said it out loud yet - but then he realizes that Chris is too much of a romantic to not make some huge, perfect deal out of it. Like a proposal. What he says instead is just as good in Sebastian’s personal opinion… 

“You’re gonna have to tell me more about your kinks.” He pauses, licking his lips and using his strength to re-arrange him a little on his chest as if he’s just a doll. Sebastian sinks more into him, laughing quietly, “‘cause I kinda, uhh, really like that?” 

**Author's Note:**

> How was this? I see a serious lacking of Evanstan daddy kink out there and I felt the need to add some of my own writing to what is out there. Sub!Seb is everywhere I and LOVE that so this was just a further extension.


End file.
